


A Night at the Opera House

by GremlinGirl



Series: Wicked Delights [1]
Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dorian is constantly planning, Exhibitionism, Implied Period Typical Homophobia, M/M, Victor is constantly annoyed, the boys go to a play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 14:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12937107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GremlinGirl/pseuds/GremlinGirl
Summary: Dorian and Victor enjoy a night at the theatre.





	A Night at the Opera House

The grimy water along the cobbled streets reflected the light from gas lamps placed conveniently along the sidewalk, carriage wheels tossing the damp with every rotation. Even the upper-class streets couldn’t escape the dreary weather that seemed a permanent and lasting infliction upon their great country. Victor brought his coat tighter around his thin frame, trying to trap in heat. Before long, the rains would turn to ice and snow and he would be even more miserable than he was now.

Victor did not know many feelings outside of miserable anyway.

Standing out in the light drizzle was becoming more and more unbearable as he waited for his insufferable companion. How he’d ever been convinced to attend a play of all things was beyond him. The only hypothesis he could draw was that it was utterly impossible to say no to Dorian Gray. About anything. He had a magnetism, a charm, and an addictive quality that reminded Victor of the drugs he injected. The difference? Victor controlled when he had a shot of morphine. Dorian’s interest in him, or anyone, seemed to change with the winds and the phases of the moon.

“Dear doctor, you could have come inside to wait.” That voice, slick and smooth cut through the rain, and Victor felt a heating in his chest. As if the sound of someone’s voice could have any effect on internal temperature. The very idea was unscientific, based in soft feelings rather than fact. Victor didn’t deal in feelings or emotion. He was a scientist. No matter what horrors he’d seen, what impossibilities unfolded before his eyes, his faith would always returned to what he knew.

Dorian, of course, defied all of it. He was pale, yet lively. Soft, yet hard. Cold, yet warm. Dorian made him soft, left his insides fluttery, made him light-headed. It was infuriating, yet Victor couldn’t feel anger while those dark eyes settled on him. He felt mad - like something was loose in his brain.

Victor cleared his throat when he realized he had zoned out, not responding. “I find your townhouse...haunting. And standing in the rain is much more keen to breathing in dust.” He smoothed a hand down the front of his jacket. “You’ve gotten me to agree to this outing, Mr. Gray, but don’t be fooled into thinking I’m going to derive any joy from it at all.”

“You don’t derive joy from much,” Dorian stated, his easy smile sending shivers up Victor’s spine. “But I believe it is less a matter of inability than it is of stubbornness.” He nodded, then opened the umbrella he was carrying above their heads. Victor, ashamedly, jumped a bit when he heard the click of it sliding open, and he looked above them to the black underbelly of it.

“We’re...not taking a carriage?” he asked, already not liking this outing, if he was expected to jaunt through the rain to the downtown theatre.

“No. I thought..walk in the rain, how novel!”

“This is how one catches a cold!” Victor snapped, interrupting whatever musing Dorian was about to spill into. Then, he began forward, leaving the other man having to hurry to catch up with him. Victor’s swift pace didn’t let up, and he wasn’t going to amble along casually and wait for the skies to open up. “I do not understand why I put up with you,” he mummered, his eyes cast down to the slick cobblestones. He truly did not.

“It’s because, of course, you find me as irresistible as I find you.”

Victor turned, his eyes ghosting over the man beside him. He did not miss the fact that Dorian was holding the umbrella entirely over him, causing his right shoulder to be wet by the continuous rainfall. It wasn’t hard, yet, but it wasn’t letting up either. “You haven’t written me for two weeks. I must not be that irresistible to you…”

  
“Did I hurt your feelings?” Dorian sighed, shaking his head once, back and forth. “That was not my intention, dear doctor.” His words sounded so...genial. Cordial. Like small talk at a gathering or gala. Yet, he still managed to make it sound sincere as well. Charming, prepossessing. “I promise to keep our correspondence more regular from here on out. But...may I point out, you did not contact me, either.”

The insinuation made him blush, and Victor turned his head quickly. He couldn’t believe that Dorian somehow managed to pick out the one thing he was most embarrassed or self-conscious about and bring it to the forefront. Of course, he had wanted to send him a letter, to call late at night, past acceptable business hours. He had laid awake for several nights, imagining what it would feel like if Dorian was pressed against his back or held in his arms. It wasn’t fair. Dorian Gray lived only for himself, and Victor had done the same for as long as he could remember. It was only now that he was becoming horribly dependant on the company of another.

“Well, I was very busy. Some of us have jobs to maintain our livelihood, after all.” Miffed, the comment still stinging, Victor’s voice was tight. Dorian, for once, seemed to read the mood and he went quiet. The outing was shaping up to be...tedious already.

Victor couldn’t honestly say he even enjoyed being around Dorian. He found him ostentatious, needlessly extravagant, selfish, boyish, immature. Their conversations held a higher sort of wit, but that could be said for many in Victor’s company. Miss Ives was certainly one for interesting topics, and Sir Malcolm was a very wise man that could hold fabulous exchanges. Still, none of them held quite the appeal that Dorian did. Some might point to the sexual nature of their relationship as reason enough, yet Victor staunchly refused to accept that he would return to a man simply because of a good fuck.

He refused to speak to Dorian for the rest of the walk, focused on making it to the playhouse instead of turning to leave.

 

* * *

 

 

The stage was set with colorful scenery as a particularly boring story played out below them. The theatre was darkened except for the stage, and Victor found himself staring into the darkness, rather than at the players he should have been captivated by. He truly found this particular pastimes one of the most...nerve splitting. Especially when the heroine of the story would give a shriek or speak her lines in that shrill voice. It was driving Victor mad.

They were seated in Dorian’s private box, watching the show down below. When Victor looked across to the man, he had to squint to make him out in the dimness. It seemed Dorian was enraptured by the story, or perhaps the bouncing pair of breasts which were hardly contained within the ill-fitting costume said heroine was wearing. Turning again, Victor tried to see what the appeal was, but he only sighed and glanced away again.

Of course, Dorian had heard him, and that was apparently enough to warrant him getting close. Before Victor even realized it was happening, there were lips at his ear, whispering to him. “There’s a reason I brought you here,” he said, and then teeth closed around the shell of his ear. Victor’s breath sped up a bit, and he went ramrod straight in his seat, the danger of this not lost on him.

“We’re in public, you fool,” he whispered back, harshly. It was strange enough, two men attending a play together, sitting in a private box. He didn’t need Dorian going and doing something to draw attention to them.

“No one can see…” Dorian’s voice had dipped into that lecherous place, a rumble against his ear that made something twist in Victor’s gut. “It’s dark. There’s a band playing down below. No one is even looking in this direction, let alone able to see what we are doing. My box is private for a reason…” It was true. The theatre was dark, and there was a black curtain behind them that separated them from the hallway. The orchestra was playing fairly loudly, and everyone’s attention would be on the play.

“What do you plan to do?” he asked, partially unable to believe he was about to go through with this. Risk his reputation, his livelihood, his home. All for a quick moment of pleasure in a public theatre. As if they couldn’t wait until returning to Dorian’s townhouse or even Victor’s hovel.

“You sounded bored...so I’m going to entertain you…” Dorian slipped out of his seat, seeming to almost slither up between his legs. Victor spread them a bit, watching as his pants were loosened and Dorian went fishing for the prize. Victor could barely make out the smirk in the darkness, but he couldn’t almost sense that it was there. As ridiculous as that was.

Victor bit his lip as Dorian found what he was looking for, his hand fisting around Victor’s cock. He leaned his head back against the seat, shutting his eyes as he was stroked, already half-hard just from seeing his part-time lover on his knees. Another problem Victor had with Dorian was the ease he had in making people melt to his whims. Anyone else and Victor would have kicked them in the head and left. Hell, if anyone else had asked him to go see a play, he wouldn’t have been here in the first place. But there was almost a barrier in his subconscious. He couldn’t say no to Dorian.

Or, rather, he didn’t want to.

Dorian pulled his cock out, and Victor hissed as it was exposed to the air. All these bodies packed in together left the building rather warm, which he was almost grateful for. Hot breath ghosted across his erection and Victor had to stop himself from snapping at the man to hurry up.

A tongue brushed against the head, and Victor moaned just a crescendo of music filled the theatre. Dorian kept up that, circling his tongue around the head as Victor gripped onto the armrests on either side of himself. “Impeccable timing,” he gasped, earning a low chuckle that could almost be considered predatory.

Just as Victor was growing used to this, Dorian sunk down on his cock further, taking the tip fully between his lips and sucking, making Victor moan again. The music soared again, cymbals crashing, and Victor jumped slightly. He moved his hands from the armrest and to Dorian’s hair instead. Holding onto him tightly, Dorian simply tried to contain anymore unnecessary sounds.

The third movement came with another musical swell, and Dorian sunk to the base. Victor let loose that time, gasping out loud as his back arched away from the seat. The orchestra was playing loud and without pause now, and there was song coming from the shrill heroine. Victor was lost to it, though, moaning and gasping freely as Dorian bobbed his head up and down in quick and nearly jerky movements. A rhythm existed there that Victor finally realized matched the beat of the drum he was hearing.

Victor wasn’t sure if it was annoying or not, but he quickly realized that his companion had timed this blowjob exactly to the musical score they were hearing. He hadn’t even realized they were attending an operatic performance; a detail that was surely kept from him for this specific cause. And while, at a time, Victor might have considered it tawdry at a time, but there was also a certain charm to it. And he certainly wasn’t complaining about the hot tongue that swirled around his cock and drew an orgams from him.

He spilled his seed shamelessly into Dorian’s mouth, then slumped back down into the seat. Unfazed, Dorian swallowed it all, sucking his cock clean before he released him. Victor was tucked neatly away in his pants before he had even recovered from it. His fingers slipped from Dorian’s hair as the other moved, and Victor turned his head to watch him brushing it back neatly.

“You are a fool,” he said, earning a smirk. “No, really. What sort of simpleton plans to partake in illicit deeds while at the opera house? If we’d been caught-”

“I didn’t see you complaining.” A finger reached over, gently tracing Victor’s jaw, and he slapped the searching hand away with a roll of his eyes. As he sat back up, he crossed his legs and pretended that nothing had happened at all.

And he staunchly refused to acknowledge the red blush that heated his face, and the short laughter that was drowned out by the finale of the musical number. 

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written these two before, but I had fun. I'm making this a series to post all my porn about them in.


End file.
